


Sleepfucking

by TheMouthKing



Series: Bangtoberfest 2K17 [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: KINKTOBER2017, M/M, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 02:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12245637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMouthKing/pseuds/TheMouthKing
Summary: Day 1 of Kinktober 2017; Sleepy Sex.





	Sleepfucking

**Author's Note:**

> None of these are going to be very long, and they're all going to be one-shots.

It’s early morning Saturday and neither of them have any reason to be anywhere but right here. Morning light shines through the gap in the curtains, glows gold in Rhett’s sleep-messy hair as he nuzzles his face into the place where Link’s neck and shoulder meet. Link moans and moves in his sleep, leaning back against Rhett, who was far less asleep than he was. 

Rhett’s hard, and he’s debating either waking Link up or taking care of it himself and curling back up for another couple hours of sleep, if he can. It’d be easy, too, to just fall back to sleep if he blinked too long. Caught in between asleep and awake as he is, the moment seems fuzzy, almost dream-like. 

The decision makes itself when Link keeps leaning into him, even when he (half-reluctantly) pulled away, thinking of palming himself under the covers and leaving Link to sleep. Well, if that’s the way it’s going to be, that’s fine by Rhett. He leans into it, into Link, lets his hand roam over that long, lean body, slow and searching wherever he can reach. 

“Mmm…” comes a soft hum from Link. He drifts up from beneath the thick blanket of sleep the more time passes, the more Rhett’s touching him, that soft, warm palm rubbing up under his shirt, over his bare and hairy chest and belly. 

“Mm?” Rhett echoes, asks. 

But there’s a real delayed response because Link’s slipped back underneath the weight of his sleep. 

“Mhm,” it comes, finally, soft and lazy and all the energy he’s got in the moment for replying. But then, he finds a little more to lean back, ass pressed flush to the hard press of Rhett against him. With Link’s increasingly encouraging (albeit sleepy) responses, it’s all too easy for Rhett to let this happen. To rub his big hand over Link’s chest, to lazily thumb his nipples before sweeping that hand down to catch his hip for leverage, a point of contact as he lets their bodies start to grind together. 

Whatever it is Link was dreaming about is starting to shift, to align with what his body’s experiencing. 

The slow grind stretches on longer than preamble sometimes does between them, all the while, sleep still threatening Rhett with it’s occasional tug, Link barely breaking the surface into that space between asleep and awake. It’s not until Rhett’s big hand makes it down the front of Link’s briefs that he stirs in a way that’s obvious he’s not quite sleeping, his own hand finding Rhett’s, encouraging a squeeze by cupping that bigger hand in his, through the thin fabric of his underwear. 

“Link…” 

Link rubs his hand over Rhett’s, over the smooth drag of the cotton from knuckles to wrist, wanting more, wanting pressure and grip but not knowing how to ask for that. Not being awake enough to try. 

Rhett gets the picture, responds with a long rub and a slow stroke, fingers curled loose around him and Link turns his face, groans into the mattress. Tries to figure out a way to move his body back and forward at the same time for more, more of everything at once. 

“Hrmmng,” he mumbles, hand making a lazy pass over Rhett’s wrist and forearm like there’s more he wants that he doesn’t know how to ask for. 

Rhett pauses, lets go of Link in favor of pushing his briefs down his narrow hips to get them out of the way, so the next stroke isn’t stuttered by the trap of fabric, but as it bunches down around Link’s thighs he’s aware that Rhett behind him has lost his own pajamas. That the press of hard flesh at his ass isn’t muted by clothing at all anymore, and that’s enough to tug him up a few levels of sleep long enough to get out something that sounds like words. 

“Mmm _fuck_ ,” and, licking his lips, “...Rhett?”

“Yeah, baby?” Rhett rumbles the question against Link’s neck. 

“...hmmm,” he lets out the sound, heavy with breath and a moan not too far beneath the surface, “‘wanna fuck me…” 

“You wanna fuck you?” Rhett echoes with a grin in his voice, beard tickly at Link’s neck as he smiles against him there. 

“...y’know what I mean…” he manages, voice thick with sleep he hasn’t shaken off yet. 

“You want _me_ to fuck you?” Rhett asks the question he knows Link means, but he undercuts it unfairly with a hand holding his hip tight as he leans in, grinds against his ass, intentionally being distracting, playing dirty. But they both know exactly what it is Link’s wanting. 

Link doesn’t manage to get more words out, then. His response is barely more than a whimper of need, but Rhett doesn’t need more than that to know he’s right. To get permission enough to go ahead. 

It’s a rustling commotion of covers and shifting, Rhett twisting to lean away and coming back with what was needed in hand and it’s not long before he’s got slick fingers rubbing between Link’s cheeks while he noses his way along his shoulder, damp mouth and soft beard dragging over his skin as he teases him briefly, eases him open easily. Sleepy as he is, he’s relaxed and pliant, easy to move and maneuver, ripe for the taking. 

Take him he does, sinks into him slow and easy till they’re pressed together back to front, till he’s half laying on Link and half side by side with him. And Link takes it, opens beneath the insistent press and stretch of fingers followed by the blunt girth of him, blanketed enough beneath the weight of still-lingering sleep that he lets out hardly more than soft, fitful groans like he’s just shifting in his sleep. Like nothing more is happening between these sheets. 

With his arm looped around Link, Rhett starts to move, his big hand moving down his body to his hip, keeps their bodies locked together tight. Gets leverage enough to rock into him, so that there’s no question what’s happening if you were looking on. 

Link moans in earnest then, more than the soft sounds he’s been making that could almost be dismissed as sleep sounds. The sound erupts from him like he’d just woken up, thrust into the situation from a deep and profound sleep. That’s not the case, though. No, he’s been aware of what’s going on, of his surroundings -- he’d asked to be fucked -- but in that moment it _sounds_ like he’s been taken by surprise. Like he’s only just discovering that this isn’t happening in dreams, but that Rhett’s actually inside him, wrapped around him, everywhere all at once. 

The suggestion that that’s the case -- that Link had been sound asleep up until this point and that Rhett had managed to get this far before Link was remotely conscious -- is enough to send him over the edge. It’s just a hint of questionable consent, all of it existing in his own mind, because in reality, he knows that Link had asked for it. Their lazy pace tips over, amps up harder and _faster_ as Rhett chases the rush and comes undone, gasping and breathless against Link’s neck. 

Link can feel the racing of Rhett’s pulse thrumming through his skin as he comes inside him. In the seconds after he starts to sink again, still hard and wanting but falling back into the warmth of Rhett’s body and the softness of the bed beneath their sides as their breathing slows, syncs up. But, with a subtle jerk like catching yourself back awake when you start to fall in dreams, Link startles back fully awake. And his hand finds Rhett’s wrist and pulls his arm around him like a heavy blanket, pushing that big palm down between his legs. He’s still hard, still needy, and even still battling against sleep, he’s not about to be put off of release. 

“...please…” he hums, lazily nuzzling his head back against Rhett wherever they’re lining up. It’s a relief when that big hand moves over him like he’d wanted, like he’d directed, rubbing him in familiar, easy strokes. They’ve done this enough that Rhett could bring Link off in his sleep, and right now, he practically is.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for liking, commenting and subscribing.


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